Stars of Korea
by Pathseldomtraveled
Summary: What do the members of the 4077th see and think when they gaze up into the stars? Please read and review.
1. BJ

**Disclaimer: **I don't own MASH

**A/N:** Please Review. PLEASE!!!!!!

The stars of Korea keep me company, the beautiful stars that gaze passively down at the earth. They care nothing of the fragile lives that are disrupted by the war. In a way this comforts me, it reminds me of home because these are the same stars that watch my house, as well as Korea…

It is a late sleep-less night for me in Korea. With nothing to do, I decide to go outside and stare up at the stars. It always amazes me how familiar and yet how different the stars of Korea are. These are not the stars that I grew up with. No. _My_ stars are at home, watching over my wife and my daughter.

It kills me that I can not be there with them. I am missing the first years of my daughter's life. I can not share the magical memories of the first time she walks, the first time she talks. Her first word won't be "daddy" because for all she knows, she has no daddy. Oh I'm sure Peg tells Erin about me. Tells her stories of her father and tells her why he cannot be there, but to Erin, who has never met her daddy, they are just stories. To her I am just another fairytale. I live in a foreign realm with Cinderella and Snow White.

And what a realm I live in. Oh yes, the majestic country they call Korea. It is stained red with the blood that I must wade through daily. I will never be able to rid myself of Korea, and it saddens me that this is the legacy that I will be forced to bring home, with me, to my family. When I look into the eyes of my wife, will she be able to see the sadness that haunts mine? I never want her to be exposed to this horrible madness, but she knows me so well and she can always seem to read my mind. I cringe when I think of what she will read in my eyes now.

I look up in an attempt to keep the tears at bay and am caught anew at the wondrous beauty and terrible sadness that the stars seem to represent for me.


	2. Hawkeye

**Disclaimer: **Sadly I do not own MASH.

**A/N: **Please Review. Please.

The stars of Korea keep me company, the beautiful stars that gaze passively down at the earth. They care nothing of the fragile lives that are disrupted by the war. In a way this comforts me, it reminds me of home because these are the same stars that watch my house, as well as Korea…

As I walk back from Post-op, after checking on the boy whose surgery I had done early, something bright catches my eye. Caught between terror, these days it seems that terror is always under the surface, and curiosity I pause for a moment to find out where that flash of light came from. It takes a while for me to figure out that it was the stars that made me pause and that had instilled in me, for a brief moment, a horrible feeling of dread that was enough to freeze my heart for a second.

The stars. How long has it been since I last looked at the stars? I mean truly gazed up at their wondrous beauty and their hidden mysteries. When I was young, right after my mother died, my father had told me that the stars were actually looking glasses, where the people who were no longer with us could look down and watch us as we moved through the paces of our lives. He had said that my mother was up there looking down on me. He would point to a star up in the sky and say, "there she is son and she is so proud of you."

That moment in time has always stuck with me. Now, however, when I look up at the stars it is not my mother that I imagine, but is instead all of the lives that I have failed to save. They seem to look down on me in sorrow, silently questioning me. "Why did we have to die," they seem to scream, but I don't know the answer. Day in and day out I stick my hands in their blood. My hands have been stained red and I can no longer seem to wash the blood off. Oh I know that my hands are not really red, but the blood is there never the less. It is right under the surface. Mocking me. Telling me that I have, yet again, failed to save a life.

I look up in a futile attempt to perhaps ask the heavens why there is such unhappiness in the world and am struck anew at the terrible sadness that the stars seem to possess.


	3. Charles

**Disclaimer: **I do not own MASH (despite my wishful thinking).

**A/N:** Please Review.

The stars of Korea keep me company, the beautiful stars that gaze passively down at the earth. They care nothing of the fragile lives that are disrupted by the war. In a way this comforts me, it reminds me of home because these are the same stars that watch my house, as well as Korea…

As I stroll outside for a moment of brief respite from my infantile tent-mates, I catch a glimpse of the stars that have always beckoned to me. Ah yes. The stars, that seem to possess a music all of their own. And the music…Oh how it seems to call to me.

Music is my shelter; it has protected me from the savageness of Korea. It is to music that I have always turned when the nights are too dark. The faithful companions of Mozart, of Brahms, of Beethoven, have kept me sane. They have provided a sanctuary of peace, a place away from the blood and pain and cries that seem to permeate my soul.

To my horror, however, I find that the walls of my sanctuary seem to be crumbling. A small crack at first, something barely to be seen. That same crack now seems to form an entire door and through this door the war enters. The pain, the suffering, they all seem to rend my soul. The music that had once sheltered me against this madness now invites it in.

How can men be so brutal!?! How can a world that gave birth to such geniuses as Mozart and Einstein also possess such horridness? And the blood, my God the blood! It falls from these soldiers, these boys, like small rivers and all of my skills aren't enough to staunch the flow. I cannot seem to save them! I, with all my learned skill, cannot _save _them!

I look up in despair, grieving my inadequacy, and am caught anew at the stars, the silent musical stars that I now know mock me.


	4. Colonel Potter

**Disclaimer: **I, sadly, do not own MASH.

**A/N: **If you love it, review. If you hate it, review. If you _read_ it, review. PLEASE!?!

The stars of Korea keep me company, the beautiful stars that gaze passively down at the earth. They care nothing of the fragile lives that are disrupted by the war. In a way this comforts me, it reminds me of home because these are the same stars that watch my house, as well as Korea…

Sometimes when it's late at night and quiet I like to go outside and just be still. Tonight I walk around the silent camp and I glance up, catching a glimpse of the stars. Whenever I think about the stars, I think about how very old they are. They have been around since the creation of the world. Tonight, however, it feels as if I share their age.

I am not a young buck anymore and this is brought to my attention every time a wounded soldier comes to my table. When I look down on the face of the boy that I am supposed to heal, it always brings a shock to me to discover how young he really is. Here in Korea, we operate on kids. It's not right.

And even as I look around camp I find that I am the oldest one here. The people I work with, the surgeons I work with, are all kids in their own right. They should not be here. They should not be forced to suffer such tragedy at such a care-free age. They are forced into being much older than they really are.

And working with all of these young kids scares me, because lately when the wounded start to come in, it is not the injured soldier's face that I see. No. It is the people I work with, my friends, who I see lying there on the table in front of me. Dying. It makes my hands start to tremble when I think that one day the faces of Hawkeye, and BJ, and Radar, and Klinger, might not be just illusions. That one day their lives will be dependent on my hands that seem to have aged since coming to Korea.

I look up, beseeching the stars to tell me if perhaps I am too old, and am struck by how silent and uncaring the stars are.


	5. Father Mulcahy

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own, maybe next week.

**A/N:** Same as always. Review please.

The stars of Korea keep me company, the beautiful stars that gaze passively down at the earth. They care nothing of the fragile lives that are disrupted by the war. In a way this comforts me, it reminds me of home because these are the same stars that watch my house, as well as Korea…

Sometimes it calms me to just walk around the camp when it is quiet and at peace. I enjoy the darkness that hides the war torn Korea and I enjoy gazing up at the stars which seem to smile down like beacons of hope for us poor humans stuck on this desolate planet. Sometimes it confuses me though, especially when I imagine the great God who created all of this. He created the bright beautiful stars and as I gaze up admiring their wonder, I cannot help but to see the contrast between the beauty that I gaze upon and the ugliness that is currently around me.

How is it that a world that possesses such awesomeness can also possess such evilness? And as I daily gain the knowledge of this horridness, it becomes harder and harder to see the good. What good will I be when I can no longer see through this hazy fog of evil and when I can no longer guide lost souls to the light, to the good, and to God? My life has been based on helping people through their demons, but now it seems as if _my_ demons have caught up with me.

This is all that I am and all that I ever wanted to be. What happens when I can no longer do this? What will become of my life when the dark has finally succeeded in chasing away the light?

I once again look toward the stars and am struck by how it now seems as if their majestic light has become darker, more dulled.


	6. Margaret

**Disclaimer: **Never have I owned (and probably never will)

**A/N:** Thanks so much to all you reviewers.

The stars of Korea keep me company, the beautiful stars that gaze passively down at the earth. They care nothing of the fragile lives that are disrupted by the war. In a way this comforts me, it reminds me of home because these are the same stars that watch my house, as well as Korea…

Sometimes when I'm lonely, I go outside and look up at the stars. I look up and it seems as if they smile down at me. They know me through and through. My secrets. My fears. My entire soul. I smile up at the stars, my friends, but tonight my smile seems to falter. Tonight they are not enough. A person needs the comfort of human companions, people who love them. I don't mean sex. Sex in the army is rarely about love.

What I want is a simple hug, given by a friend who cares about me, loves me like a sister. I am so lonely. And I only have myself to blame. I keep everyone at bay. Afraid that if they see the real Margaret, they won't like what they see.

So I have dedicated myself to the army. I do everything with the utmost precision. I do it right, with no bending of the rules. Rules are _not_ made to be broken. I love the army. And for my love, the army has rewarded me. I am in a position of authority. I am a major and a head nurse. People look up to me, depend on me. Yes, the army has treated me well. It has given me a good life.

But the army does not love me, cannot love me.

With a small sigh I look back up at the stars, the only ones in Korea who truly know me, and am struck with the awful realization that these cold heartless beacons care nothing about me.


	7. Radar

**Disclaimer:** Need I say more?

**A/N:** I hope you like it.

The stars of Korea keep me company, the beautiful stars that gaze passively down at the earth. They care nothing of the fragile lives that are disrupted by the war. In a way this comforts me, it reminds me of home because these are the same stars that watch my house, as well as Korea…

I'm outside gazing up at the stars. I'm always busy it seems and sometimes it's nice to admire the simple things in life. The stars have always made me feel comforted. They remind me of the nightlight I used to sleep with at home. In a place that's as scary as this, it is sometimes good to be reminded of the things that used to chase away the dark for me.

In Korea, however, the dark is a type of shelter. It hides the scariness of the war. The dark makes sure that you can't see the poor villagers whose homes have been destroyed. It makes sure that you don't have to look into the eyes of the orphans. It hides the wounded ground that is stained with the blood of kids. In this war-torn land the darkness is a boon.

And the stars try to chase this shelter away. As if the day were not enough, the stars try to make us see at night. It's impossible to escape the taint of red and it is made even worse by the starlight. The dark gives you a faint hope that maybe it is possible to escape the terrors of this war, but the stars, the nightlights, crush this hope.

When I came to Korea, along with my bear, I had a nightlight. It only took me a week until I could no longer bear to have it on when I slept. Coming to Korea, I have learned that there are scarier things than the dark. The dark is good. The dark is merciful.

I look back up am struck with a wave of resentment for the stars, which try to bring into the light, what should be kept in the dark.


End file.
